His name was Ye Huanqiu. He was an ordinary man on Earth, enjoying movies, music, and the occasional short video. His job was unremarkable, and living alone, he neither smoked nor drank, rarely socializing. He managed to save a little money, but not much.
One day, for reasons he couldn't explain, he saw people on the street shouting about a fire. A restaurant's fire safety measures had failed, and the blaze had spiraled out of control. Someone had already called the fire department, but just as Ye Huanqiu was about to steer clear, he heard a child crying inside. The flames were rapidly spreading.
For the first time in over twenty years, Ye Huanqiu felt an overwhelming surge of courage. Using his limited knowledge, he soaked his clothes and a towel in water, pressed the wet towel to his mouth and nose, held his breath, and charged into the burning building. He rescued two children before rushing back in. Suddenly, a gas tank on the ground floor exploded, the massive shockwave sending the upper floors teetering precariously.
One terrified child began jumping and screaming, inadvertently accelerating the floor's collapse.
With his last ounce of strength, Ye Huanqiu scooped the child into his arms, shielding him with his own back. As the floor gave way beneath them, they plummeted downward into the burning wreckage.
Ye Huanqiu's last conscious memory was of firefighters in orange uniforms rescuing the child from his arms. He had been running back and forth, giving the child his soaked towel after inhaling too much toxic smoke and suffering a heavy blow to the back from the fall.
He lost consciousness...
He never expected to wake up in a skyscraper.
As the memories of this new body flooded his mind, he discovered that he was still Ye Huanqiu—a Bronze One-Star lyricist and composer. Apart from a few happy childhood moments in the countryside, his memories were filled with pain. He had come to the Demon Capital alone, becoming a Shanghai Drifter. Fortunately, he met a mentor who guided him into the cultural and creative industry. With a bit of cleverness and his meticulous, observant nature, he had managed to become a professional lyricist and composer despite lacking formal musical training.
But his talent only went so far. He had no innate musicality, forced to work like a tailor—occasionally hearing a decent melody, altering it slightly, and stitching it into his compositions.
So far, he had only written two songs in the "First Steps" series, which the company had claimed as their own, leaving him with nothing but two five-hundred-yuan red envelopes.
Otherwise, he could have easily become a Bronze Three-Star Writer. Advancing in rank required producing well-known works, but the company's exploitative contract terms had seized ownership of his creations. He had signed it himself, desperate to keep his job, desperate to... stay in the Demon Capital.
Reading through these memories, Ye Huanqiu sensed a suffocating blend of suppression, loneliness, and above all, utter powerlessness—a state of perpetual compromise.
His life had been exhausting, and the strain had taken a toll on his health. He had no friends; the relentless work environment left no time for socializing, let alone meeting women.
At the company, they were all just cogs in a machine, regardless of gender—nothing more than wage slaves.
The reason the other Ye Huanqiu, his namesake who had died suddenly, had been exploited so ruthlessly was his lack of a Demon Capital residency permit. Compared to his colleagues, some of whom had already settled in the city and others who were native to the Demon Capital, he was utterly defenseless. He had become the prime target for exploitation, ultimately leading to his sudden death.
Ye Huanqiu felt a pang of sympathy for his unfortunate colleague, while simultaneously wrestling with his own uncertainty about the future.
His workload was triple that of his colleagues, and since he wrote both the lyrics and music himself, the intensity was unimaginable. Yet, because he wasn't a local and his education wasn't top-tier, his salary was inexplicably twenty percent lower than theirs.
He never received an annual bonus. Only his perfect attendance, religiously clocking in and out on time, offered a meager compensation—a drop in the bucket compared to the work he put in.
What is workplace bullying? What is the world's brutal beatdown? What does it mean to take advantage of honest people...?
Damn it, Old Man Heaven! You let me transmigrate, fine, but couldn't you have given me the body of a heartthrob or the pampered lover of some wealthy CEO? At least then I'd have a chance to rise to the top! As it was, he was powerless, without connections or backing. And from his memories, he knew he had to submit two songs by tomorrow. If he failed, that bloated, pig-headed supervisor would be all over him again.
How to dispel this despair? Only by going all-out!
"Golden Finger, System overlord, gods above, Holy Mother Mary—please grant this humble servant a cheat code!"
As he raved, a purple starburst shimmered unseen on his neck.
Appealing to heaven is futile; pleading with the earth brings no solace.
Ye Huanqiu's stomach rumbled. He glanced at his workstation and thankfully spotted a bucket of instant noodles. He decided to grab some hot water first.
While he was at it, he went to the restroom to wash his face. When he removed his thick, black-rimmed glasses, the face staring back from the mirror was undeniably handsome.
His eyes sparkled like distant stars, his complexion glowed like polished jade, and his tall, nearly six-foot frame only added to his striking appearance. Wait... I didn't look like this before, did I? To be honest, he'd always been average-looking, both in this life and his past one.
But now... he could easily pass for a magazine model if he got a haircut and ditched the glasses.
"I don't need glasses anymore!"
Removing his glasses, Ye Huanqiu realized that his vision, which had deteriorated to several diopters due to years of overtime, had completely recovered. His eyes were now crystal clear and bright!
Is this some kind of perk from transmigrating?
After indulging in a few minutes of self-admiration, he put his glasses back on and returned to his office. Two more songs still needed to be finished, and the aroma of the instant noodles was already making his mouth water.
He remembered being a child, thinking instant noodles were the most delicious thing in the world. He had even vowed that when he grew up, he would buy buckets of them and eat his fill. Now, well... he could have instant noodles to his heart's content.
Back at his workstation, Ye Huanqiu stared at the music software on his outdated computer and idly pressed the spacebar to play an arrangement.
What is this garbage? he thought. The production quality is atrocious, and the stitched-together sound effects are even worse than the tackiest Chinese club music. Even without any musical talent, my past life on Earth exposed me to enough music to recognize quality.
No wonder he'd been stuck at Bronze-tier for so long. Even if Nuocheng Company hadn't claimed those songs, his talent would have plateaued at Bronze anyway.
Bored, he switched to the Earth Star platform to browse local content. He was surprised to find many familiar songs missing. He'd hoped to relax with some music, but searching for "Greatest Hits" only turned up trash.
He tried searching for several iconic songs from his previous life, but none of them existed here. He quickly logged into his familiar social media accounts. To be honest, this Earth Star world wasn't all that different from Earth. All the same people were here, just with slightly altered names.
He scrolled through celebrity photos—the faces were identical, only the names had changed.
"So... does that mean I could... plagia—呸呸呸! Channel the muses and become a creative powerhouse?"
The cruel irony was that Ye Huanqiu could only vaguely remember the complete arrangements of the songs he hummed. Turning a hum into a fully orchestrated piece wasn't as simple as pressing a button, especially since his musical knowledge was limited to basic beginner stuff; he understood nothing of advanced techniques.
Just when he thought he'd found a new path, it was blocked again.
Enraged, Ye Huanqiu slammed his fist against the corner of the nearby desk, instantly scraping blood from his knuckles. As he winced in pain, he witnessed a horrifying sight.
The blood began flowing up his arm, defying gravity as it crept toward his neck. A searing heat spread across his back, and just as he was about to scream, a pleasant, melodious voice rang out: "Taris Technology 4396 at your service. Contract successful. Activating..."
At that moment, strings of mysterious code swirled within Ye Huanqiu's pupils, revolving around them in a surreal display.
A beam of light shot from his eyes, projecting a holographic interface.
"Please name the Host."
"...Starbeam."
Ye Huanqiu uttered the word almost unconsciously.
"Confirmed. Starbeam has been successfully activated. Congratulations, Host, on becoming the owner of Taris Technology 4396. We are dedicated to serving clients throughout the universe and fulfilling their desires. How may we assist you, Host?"
"I want..." Ye Huanqiu nearly blurted out, "I want you to finish my work," but immediately slapped himself. Even with this cheat, I'm still thinking about being a corporate slave? Has Nuocheng Company brainwashed me so thoroughly that I've forgotten my own name?
"What functions do you have? How can you help me?" Ye Huanqiu calmed himself, picked up his instant noodles, and began eating as he asked.
"Starbeam is a technological artifact from Taris Planet, developed in the year 7777 according to your human calendar. The Starbeam System contains all recorded information from various planets, available for the Host's selection."
"Do you have any cultural or entertainment works from Earth?"
"Affirmative. Retrieving them for you now."
The virtual interface projected by Starbeam displayed several renowned works from Ye Huanqiu's past life, but they were all as elusive as flowers in a mirror or the moon reflected in water.
"How do I acquire them?" Ye Huanqiu slurped down the last of his noodles, his stomach full. His mind raced. There's no free lunch in this world. Why would it be so easy to get them?
"Host, Starbeam has detected a unique energy on Earth Star. By creating works that gain sufficient recognition and acclaim, you can acquire energy bestowed by Earth Star—precisely what Starbeam needs. Therefore, you simply need to continuously create excellent works to exchange them. Moreover, Starbeam can assist you in acquiring specialized skills."
Alright, this is amazing!
"One last question... is there a newbie starter pack? My immediate problem is my mediocre talent and half-baked skills. I can't just pull masterpieces out of thin air, can I?"
Sensing Ye Huanqiu's helplessness, Starbeam paused briefly before replying directly, "As you are the first human to utilize Taris Technology, Starbeam has acquired new data patterns and can apply for a starter pack on your behalf. Please wait..."
"Starter pack distributed. Please claim."
Claim.
The instant Ye Huanqiu finished speaking, a string of mysterious code materialized and flooded his body.
"Starter pack distributed. Acquired Advanced Music Programming Ability, Advanced Physique, and Full Musical Instrument Mastery. Bonus: two songs—'Blazing Life' and 'Chinese Talk'."
Ye Huanqiu was ecstatic. This was like trading a slingshot for a cannon!
His advanced music programming skills now allowed him to master any software on the market. Gone were the days of clumsy track adjustments, clunky sound effects, and ear-grating auto-tune. Everything had been compensated for.
Even Nuocheng Company's honorary composer, a Silver Medal ***** talent, was a mere amateur when it came to software—utterly outmatched by Ye Huanqiu's newfound abilities.
With his advanced physique, Ye Huanqiu lifted his shirt to reveal the faint outline of his abs and V-line. Physical health was the foundation for all his dreams and pursuits. Without a strong body, all efforts were doomed to failure.
Finally, Full Musical Instrument Mastery had transformed him, a man who had never touched an instrument and couldn't afford lessons, into an expert capable of teaching any instrument. This mastery encompassed both Eastern and Western instruments. While proficiency in three or five instruments wasn't uncommon, achieving true mastery across such a diverse range was exceedingly rare.
They say talent is like pregnancy—impossible to conceal.
For Ye Huanqiu, talent was his capital, his leverage against this oppressive and unjust company.
I, Ye Huanqiu, am the capital.